Day 1 - June 20th
RJ’s trip: 240 miles / GvS’s trip: 370 km
RJ:Poole to FolkestoneI packed my kit with all the heavy items in the panniers to keep the weight low. I find with any weight in the top box the handling is affected. Hence the top box only carried spare gloves, waterproof layers, thermal layers for jacket and trousers.
It was neither hot or cold leaving home but being optimistic I left home in shorts and t-shirt under my bike kit. This proved overly optimistic and I was adding thermal layers and waterproof layers as I progressed towards Folkestone.
By the time I reached Fleet Services I was well wrapped. Stopping I locked the bike and visited the services. On returning the bike would not start, looking for my lock and messing about I had hit the kill switch. This did get my pulse going for a short while! But having done this before it gets quicker to spot each time! Having fixed the "problem", it was back on the road and more rain.
Good job it was summer as I was never cold. Before the end of the trip I was also glad of my neck roll, we spent many hours on the bike each day and it made a big difference to be able to quickly regulate my temperature to fit the changing conditions.
Through the TunnelI arrived at the tunnel about an hour early, having allowed for all eventualities. Checking in at the self service barrier on arrival, could not have been easier. I was not cold and only the outside layer was wet in the incessant mizzle.
It was the day before the LeMans 24 so the carpark was packed with interesting cars. It was fun people / car watching as they all tried in vain to jump the very organised queue.
Once aboard the train I was told how to park, diagonally across the carriage. Don't stray far from your bike though as in a couple of track sections the train lurched and subsequently so did my bike! I had a hand on it for the rest of the trip.
The ride north - Calais - Dunkirk:I came off the train with the adrenalin running eyes wide reading signs. As I passed the petrol station heading for the motorway, I looked at the fuel gauge, oops I could have done with filling up (should have filled up in the UK). Next thought was I can fill up at the next services, there will be one soon. No, this was France. I need a bike with a bigger range
While debating the chance of running out of fuel the traffic came to a stop. At least a two mile tail back (about as far as I could see), about then my bike started to overheat, or at least get nearer to the red than I was comfortable with. All I could think of was Skyhook bike on his Spain trip a couple of years back.
Filtering would get the air flowing and cool things down, having filtered down between the first few trucks a thought crossed my mind, was filtering legal in France? Then I looked back at my temperature gauge which was still hot. Slower filtering continued, that had to be more legal
periodically the traffic would start to move, but each time it stopped, lots of people would jump out and walk about, so slow filtering proved to be a good idea.
Eventually I reached the head of the queue as the road reopened, result as I almost had to take the diversion. Open road in front and lots of air to cool me and the bike. As with the sun out I had too many layers on. (Still in UK multi layered dress including rain gear!
)
Up came the sign for Dunkirk, so it was off the motorway and heading for town. At this point I just wanted fuel, now in the red. I did not care where I was but I wanted a full tank. Looking ahead and down side roads I spotted a petrol station and filled up. Having filled up I tried to ask for directions. Neither of us could I understand the other so it quickly concluded.
This in itself was fun as I could now say I was 'Lost in France'. With the comfort of technology. I would like a sat nav but I did have my Google Nexus loaded with Google maps and downloaded map sections for France. While not equipped with a phone/data card the nexus does have a GPS built in and can show you where you are for free. Lost did not last long. So it was off with a few layers and back on the road.
Camp site booking in Dunkirk:In the queue the English chap in front of me was rattling off French. Neither he or the campsite lady is smiling; all very serious.
At this point I was thinking some planning would have been good here! This is going to go pear shaped fast
All my school boy French came rushing back for:
• My name is Roger
• Close the door
• Open the window
• Where is the tourist office?
• Turn left etc
I do not remember the plan covering booking into a campsite!
RJ : Bonjour Madame, Parlay Englas ?
Campsite lady : Non
RJ : Nervous smile :-) (thinking oops)
RJ : My friend is coming, with arm gesture's and more Nervous smiles
Campsite lady : Confused look
RJ : je voudra to book camping por deux person, and deux tents.
Campsite lady : Oui (smile)
RJ : (big smile)
I understand a 'little' French and the Campsite lady a 'little' English. By the time we had finished we were talking about the weather and she even started to tell me about the French economy this year. Grins on both our faces, it shows always have a go.
GvS:
The trip south to Dunkirk:The days before this trip, I had been very busy at work (some people will find this hard to believe, because I’m a civil servant). So I didn’t have a chance to collect all my things.
In the morning I started to collect all the stuff that I thought would be necessary (I had made a list earlier) and strap it on the bike. Due to this, I left late (nearly noon).
The weather was dry at that time, but I’d put on my raingear, because rain had been predicted.
The route went via Utrecht, Breda, Antwerpen, Brugge, Gent. And then south towards Dunkirk.
I did just get a slight drizzle of rain on the bit from Breda to Antwerpen, but south of Antwerpen, I stopped to take off the rain gear because I was getting hot.
When I stopped for a short break near Brugge, an Englishman parked his very expensive BMW next to my bike. He had a reverse gear and he could park the bike on the centre stand, by means of hydraulics without lifting his arse from the seat.
But he did have an oil leak
and mine (worth less than € 1000,= !) still doesn’t leak or use oil at all.
Just before the French border, I left the motorways, driving into France via the B-roads.
At my last stop, I’d sent RJ a text, saying, that I’d arrive around 17:30 hr. But his watch was still on UK time, so he thought that I’d arrive around 18:30 local time.
So, by the time I arrived, RJ had just paid for the campsite and had started to unpack.
There was plenty of room on the campsite, because it was off-season. But during the high-season it’s probably a crowded campsite and your tent would probably be a bit too close to your neighbour’s.
Toilet & shower block also wouldn’t win any prizes.
After we’d pitched our tents, we walked into Dunkirk via the beach. For some or reason or other there were an awful lot of joggers. Even in the rain (we found shelter) people kept up this stupid running (appologies to any joggers reading this).
I’d brought 2 of my ‘famous’ Cornish Pasties. And we’d already eaten these on the campsite. But they were small ones, so there was still room for a little more food.
(
RJ: They were very good, but after many hours on the bike they were outstanding
)
GvS: So we found a local cafe, which served food.
Now, I’d once heard that in this (most north-westerly) part of France, the people also speak dutch.
Anyway, just a few miles to the north, over the Belgian border, they do speak dutch (flemish). So I tried to speak in dutch to the girl who served us, but she didn’t understand a word I said.
There was a certain dish on the munu, called “Potje vleesch”, which is indeed a dutch word for a sort of stew. So we ordered that.
However, we didn’t get a stew. It was a cold dish of chicken (including the bones) which had been preserved in….. (I have no idea). Well, let put it like this: it was a new culinary experience.
RJ: Our chicken stew for dinner / culinary experience to quote GvS.Ah woofledownfood said GvS, could have been “Potje vleesch”
. What's that said I just happy to be close to dinner, with the added bonus that GvS knew what it was
Its like a stew, he said. Result I like stew let's get it ordered.
What came to the table did not look like any stew I had ever seen and looking across at GvS as he looked similarly perplexed. Smiling I said, I guess “Potje vleesch” is different in Holland. Turns out it is. We were served cold preserved chicken in jelly with a few gurkins and a bowl of hot chips. Tastier than it sounds and it went down well with a pint of Hougaarden. Fun and it did fill a hole.
The campsite was very quiet, off season for the French. Only 2 other tents near us an Australian cycle camper on a ten week tour. He was a pleasant chap staying in hotels evey 10 days or so to unwind his back and sort out the washing. Guess you can't carry and air-matt on a push bike. Another good reason for the motorbike
We never did meet our other neighbours in a 1-2 man festival tent, but I was supprised to see about £40K's worth of Landrover parked next to it in the morning. It would probably have been more comfortable to sleep in the back of that. Or get a better tent!